My sense of smell is put to shame by my corgis.  These dogs know that someone will be walking by-5 minutes in advance of the event.  When they are shrieking and howling, I know something is about to happen.  Their noses warn me in advance. 

  My sense of smell is much more after the fact, and pedestrian.   The fragrance of Casa Blana lilies about flattens me-that odor is so sweet, and so strong.  The smell of ammonia makes my eyes water.  The smell of diesel fuel and exhaust makes me think of Buck, riding his Harley.  The smell of hyacinths makes me think about spring.  The smell of the lindens in bloom makes me think about England.  The fragrance of phlox, and petunias makes me think about summer.  The smell of roses-divine.  

Compost has a very distinctive fragrance.  How shall I describe it?  Earthy.  Musty.  Like mushrooms.  The smell of fresh mushrooms is as pleasurable as any fragrance it has ever been my privilege to experience.   The smell of fresh mown grass is indescribable-the fragrance that mulitple leaves give off when they are cut and threshed-delicious.  Cassia leaves when touched smell like popcorn.  Rosemary leaves have a distinctively acrid smell.  The smell of fresh basil makes my mouth water.  Lettuce has a watery fragrance.  Rain has a fresh fragrance.  Tomatoes smell warm.  It has to be 30 years ago that I dug into the side of a compost pile on a very cold fall day to make myself a warm place to have lunch-the memory is so much about the warm steamy fragrance of that compost.      

There are those fragrances that warn me that all is not well.  I know when I need to take a shower.  Plants rotted from too much water have a troublesome smell.  Decomposition in the absence of air has a foul odor.  There is no  mistaking the smell of an infuriated skunk.  An electrical short smells like a fire about to be.

 Some smells are attractive to some and not so much to others.  Buck would not touch a bunch of cilantro without gloves.  He insists he cannot wash away that smell.  Needless to say, he doesn’t eat cilantro either.  Dogs smell doggy.  Wet dog smell is pretty pungent.  I don’t mind either one.  The smell of boxwood-some like it, some don’t.  I never met a cheese that didn’t smell good to me.  I like the fragrance of Chanel #5 as it reminds me of a favorite Aunt who wore it every day.         

I have a childhood memory of eating cucumber salad in the summer. Buck has been trying to recreate that childhood cucumber salad for me the past few weeks.  My memory is about the smell, and the taste-I have no idea how it was made.  His current recipe-very very thin slices of cucumber are sprinkled with salt, and left to drain.  Later, he squeezes the water out, and dresses the the limp slices with sour cream.   The moment he skins and chops a cucumber, the kitchen is filled with its distinctive and fresh fragrance.  Could there possibly be any fragrance as beautiful as that generated by a cucumber?

Having just worked through 10 days of scorchingly and witheringly high heat, and gone home to a house without power for almost 5 days, I have the following observations.

Power is a word that has lots of meanings and plenty of nuance.   Now that I have my power back-meaning my electrical power- I was able to research the meaning of the word power via google.  Relevant descriptive words include might and force.  Strength.  Potency.  authority.  and energy. 

A powerful piece of music demands a response.  A powerfully executed painting demands the visual attention of a variety of people with very different points of view. That powerful painting, or that opera,  may enchant generations of viewers. A powerful argument is convincing.  Niagara Falls is a place that details the power of nature.  A powerful country depends on its economic and political strength.  The sheer power of a cheetah may overcome the incredible speed of a gazelle.  A powerful design, as in the architecture of Frank Lloyd Wright, the discovery of radium by Marie Curie in 1898, the drawings of  Leonardo Da Vinci, the plays written by Shakespeare, the theories of the universe posed by Stephen Hawkings, the paintings of  Helen Rosenthaler, or the novels of William Faulkner- very powerful ideas, and art can influence thinking for generations. Should you be an afficianado of landscape design, I am sure you are aware of the work of Mien Ruys, Kathryn Gustafson, Andre LeNotre,  Jacques Wirtz, Vita Sackville-West, and Fernando Caruncho-I could go on without respite for a few days about those landscape designers who have powerfully influenced my thinking about the landscape.  Every true gardener is endowed with electricity.  Power.  

But I have a simpler idea in mind here.  I am interested that a good portion of the meaning of power refers specfically to electricity.  Having been without electrical power for more than just a few days,  I am confident in saying that I like my electricity.  Electricity powers my computer, my air conditioning, my sprinkler system, my lights, my refrigerator-electricity powers my world.   Would I want to do without it, permanently?  Not a chance.  Sleeping in the basement was ok-not great.  I like ending the day in my own bed.  Would I be willing to isolate myself, and give up my computer?  When my electricity came back on,  I felt as is I were set free.  Would I want to do without what electricity provides-no.   The days I spent without electricity-trying.  Not great.  Really irritating and exhausting.

The power we know as electrical energy funds our culture.  It funds our ideas.  It funds our plans.  Electricity in the garden-I am sure you have experienced it.  On that one special day, or that special moment. Once you experience it, you’ll want to experience it again. That said,  I so hope you have power.  A life without it would be a very different life indeed.